LEAVE, O leave me to my sorrows… Here I’ll sit and fade away, Till I’m nothing but a spirit, And I lose this form of clay. Then if chance along this forest
Earth rais’d up her head From the darkness dread and drear. Her light fled, Stony dread! And her locks cover’d with grey de…
In futurity I prophesy That the earth from sleep (Grave the sentence deep) Shall arise, and seek
The sun does arise, And make happy the skies. The merry bells ring To welcome the spring. The skylark and thrush,
`I die, I die!' the Mother said, `My children die for lack of bread… What more has the merciless tyrant… The Monk sat down on the stony be… The blood red ran from the Grey M…
O HOLY virgin! clad in purest wh… Unlock heav’n’s golden gates, and… Awake the dawn that sleeps in heav… Rise from the chambers of the east… The honey’d dew that cometh on wak…
SAMSON, the strongest of the children of men, I sing; how he was foiled by woman’s arts, by a false wife brought to the gates of death! O Truth! that shinest with propitious beams, turn...
q|Preludium to the First Book of… Of the primeval Priest’s assum’d… When Eternals spurn’d back his Re… And gave him a place in the North… Obscure, shadowy, void, solitary.
I love to rise in a summer morn When the birds sing on every tree; The distant huntsman winds his hor… And the skylark sings with me. Oh, what sweet company!
WHEN the green woods laugh with… And the dimpling stream runs laugh… When the air does laugh with our m… And the green hill laughs with the… When the meadows laugh with lively…
WHEN silver snow decks Sylvio’s… And jewel hangs at shepherd’s nose… We can abide life’s pelting storm, That makes our limbs quake, if our… Whilst Virtue is our walking-staf…
q| I will sing you a song of Los,… He sung it to four harps, at the t… In heart-formèd Africa. Urizen faded! Ariston shudder’d! And thus the Song began:—
Memory, hither come, And tune your merry notes; And, while upon the wind Your music floats, I’ll pore upon the stream
WELCOME, 1 stranger, to this pl… Where joy doth sit on every bough, Paleness flies from every face; We reap not what we do not sow. Innocence doth like a rose
WHEN early morn walks forth in s… Then to my black-eyed maid I hast… When evening sits beneath her dusk… And gently sighs away the silent h… The village bell alarms, away I g…